Sparks In Their Black Eyes
by anti-viper
Summary: In the land of Ooo, hidden deep in the bowels of the Fire Kingdom, a young man, nearly forgotten by his own kind and especially his father, spends his days and nights working the forge. After news of his sister's escape reaches him, Sparks, Prince of the Fire Kingdom, quickly meets someone from a world he is not quite familiar with. Can the warmth from this cold girl set him free?
1. Six Hundred Feet Under And Locked In Swe

**_Sparks In Their Black Eyes_**

**Chapter 1: Six Hundred Feet Under And Locked In Swelter**

In the depths of the caverns and catacombs of the Fire Kingdom's castle, in a snaking, nearly forgotten hallway, the sound of metal bending metal through sheer force and the crackling of fire echoed seemingly without end. The latter, common in the kingdom. The prior? Rarely seen or heard, as was the worker of the forge residing within the hallway's only room.

Perched on an Obsidian stool and bare naked as far as other Flame Elementals were concerned, no metal upon him, he tinkered away with this and that, his body a serene yet mellow yellow that brought beautiful light to the often harsh tools of war he was ordered to craft. He was of a sturdy build, thinner than most males of his kind but still clearly powerful. Once again unlike the rest of his race, his body remained firmly humanoid, flames of course dancing along its planes and curves, but his actual shape's lines very smooth and unchanging.

Black, twinkling eyes adjourned his sun-like face, the only true difference that of the geometrical variety, his head ovular and of a pleasant build. An otherwise short bunch of shining, wavy red hair flew down his neck like a mane of sorts, the only part of his body that seemed to be truly ablaze.

If one was cruel in their description, they could call him a lemon with one end on fire and be fairly accurate. Of course, it you would describe the Crown Prince of the Fire Kingdom to anyone from the Candy Kingdom as such, their minds would immediately turn to the unfortunate ball in which The Earl of Lemongrab drastically misunderstood the proper way in which to toast and subsequently eat marshmallows. It had taken a good ten minutes for the Banana Guards to shoot enough whip cream on him via hose to extinguish the flames, and by that time his shrieks had been forever carved into the minds of most whom were present.

Sparks, for that was the Prince's name, enjoyed his little chamber; his little toy room, as he sometimes called it. His toys being a collection of diamond tools that glittered from the two torches attached to the wall along from both his touch and his presence, numerous blocks of ores and metals, and (the most recent addition) an amateur book of spellcasting.

This was of course made out of metal as well (though if Sparks remembered correctly, his family tree did feature a Great, Great, Great Uncle whom was fascinated by reading paper books, and would hire non-Flame Elementals to cast flame shield upon themselves and deliver them to him, where he would proceed to read each book in one sitting. His actual manner of reading was particularly fascinating, as touching a page would quickly transform said paper into ash. His Uncle had therefore, as legend spoke, blown on the book to turn pages on the right side, as he needed to turn them without his fiery touch destroying them as to read the back, and would set fire to every page he finished. As such, at the conclusion of every book he would have incinerated the entire text, and if he found himself pleased with the story enough to wish to read it again, he would then order another copy. While Uncle Volciferoco sounded like he was a few degrees Kelvin short of a backyard grill, Sparks couldn't help but wish his father possessed an ounce of that whimsical nature), though book production in the Fire Kingdom was notoriously expensive and even more so tricky.

To begin with, you would have to heat the metal enough to engrave it without crippling friction, or to press heated type into it, as was also common. Then there was the choice of metal itself; yes, some nice Nickel would melt much easier than say Gold, but there was a certain prestige involved with owning books of high quality metals.

The pages were then bound together by three metal rings, often of a harder metal as no engraving was needed upon them. The one other issue was the actual reading, as if you held the book too long it would begin to melt in your hands. This had actually led to a large waste issue until the recycling initiative his grandfather had created.

Spark's spell-book was made out of Copper (it was an amateur book, one must recall), but he didn't mind. Despite its incredibly dismal value within his kingdom, he found the metal's color beautiful, especially when bathed in the light of his own body.

His father would no doubt threaten banishment if he found his son, the Crown Prince of the Fire Kingdom and its heir in waiting, peddling in magic of all things. But as far as Sparks was concerned, his father could kiss his ash; the nineteen year old had already failed his father, rejecting politics and an obsession with honing his flame powers for violence and favoring working the forge.

The only reason his dear old dad hadn't expelled him from the kingdom (instead sending his only son hundreds of feet below the rest of the kingdom's main structures, where Obsidian and opaque black rock was the norm), was because he was such an amazing blacksmith. The Flame King's own armor had been designed and rendered by the thin, hissing fingers of Sparks, and he had taken the time to polish his father's crown up as well, increasing its heat amplification.

His thanks? A grunt. Titanium armor painstakingly died russet with the blood of a great Lava Rhino, armor that was nearly impervious to physical damage and stuffed up to the whazoo with water resistant enchantments to the point that if you dropped it into a kiddy pool the liquid within it would leap out immediately and proceed to fly several miles away. And he had gotten a Glob damned, smoldering grunt.

Sparks grasped a Diamond saw off his Obsidian table, his hands just barely solid enough from his own Obsidian "flesh" underneath his body's flames to wield it with dexterity, and began slicing sheets of Ruby off of a large block with it. It had been a long time since he had received the order to craft his younger sister, Ember, the Ruby dress (the delay a result of him being a perfectionist when it came to its design), so long he was honestly surprised someone hadn't yelled at him about the delay yet. But heck, he wasn't complaining.

His other projects, most completed, hung on his trophy rack of sorts. Many were created for his own use, some for pure pleasure, and a good deal simple experiments, stepping stones in his forging.

With extreme caution, the young adult directed enough heat into the sheets of fine Ruby to make it bendable, and began to wrap it in a dress like shape, starting with the bottom. It was precise and cautious work, which it why he was so suited for it, and useful, though no one around the castle admitted it; no other Fire Elemental was suited to do his job.

Many of the items he crafted required enchantments, at which point he would, wearingly, go to the elder wizard Smog, who lived up to his name to the point of prophecy. Everywhere he carried a Sapphire pipe which he used to smoke rare caramel fungus imported from the Candy Kingdom, and often seemed to be quite unaware of his surroundings.

Sparks had taken up basic spellcraft just so he would no longer have to deal with the old hack, and had found he had a knack for it, besides a few explosions. But hey, it was the Fire Kingdom. Any given family holiday get-together could feature enough explosions to make the great fire God of lore, Vesuvius (a mythical being who was said to resemble a volcano and had once erupted upon some freeloader named Pompeii who had lived nearby on his property without permission) blush.

Sparks had his forge, and that was about it. He had become well aware his father pretended he didn't exist when in the presence of others, and most likely did the same even within his own mind except when he couldn't avoid his first born's existence. And his sister, as far as he knew, was still held within that Glob damned lantern.

The Prince had, once upon a time, resolved to become a magician solely for the purpose of solving the inherent curse his sister, and all Flame Woman, suffered under. They lacked the bio-mass the males were born with, which allowed them greater abilities to interact with the world, as they could turn, to some degree, solid. Meanwhile, the female gender's body consisted of only a spark of fire that had caught on fire due to the oxygen around it, and had to take mass in to remain alive.

They were also known to have much less control over themselves as a result, his sister being so wildly volatile that she had been locked in that cursed lantern since she turned 10. Sparks was disgusted he had failed her, and while he made her gifts and toys to play with, he had no contact with her whatsoever, his father locking her in her room nearly year-round.

The Prince had even tried to sabotage the lantern (none of the other hotheads around here could have designed let alone molded such an intricate creation) once he had seen through his father's lie of it being a chandelier and had realized its true purpose.

Upon discovering this plot the Flame King had nearly ordered ice poured down his throat on the spot. Very nearly. Instead, he had dismissed him and in the past five years, the longest instance of continued speech his father had directed toward him was a sentence.

Sparks had gone through great depression when faced with the reality that his young, loving, and sweet sister would face the fate of their mother, which the girl did not even know of; a short life, marriage within her teen years and then quick reproduction before a quick death, usually at the age of 25, the record for oldest age of a female Flame Elemental being 42. Their mother had lasted till 30.

Whenever a Fire Philosopher was born (at a rate of about once a century; it was a lonely existence, due to the lack of anyone else willing to discuss metaphysics beyond why combustion occurs), they would eventually come to the theory that the evil nature of their race came from the males becoming alone and depressed due to the demise of their beloveds, and the females sharing this sense of angst from knowledge of their eventual doom and lack of freedom.

Of course, Fire Philosophers also spent a good amount of their time smoking the same caramel fungus Smog was so fond of and arguing with themselves in a mirror that the actual creation of their people had involved a very large oak tree and a lightning bolt that suddenly decided one day making friends with somebody on the ground would be a swell idea. Even to the rare open-minded Fire Elemental like Sparks, such ideas were plain scalderdash.

He longed to save Ember and tell her the truth, but the only feasible way that would happen was through learning a lot more magic. He might be croaked himself by the time he became powerful enough to stage a breakout.

And so, he sat in his little room, creating weaponry, toys, figurines, and—

KNOCK KNOCK

Sparks immediately rose and opened the steel door, revealing one of his few acquaintances, the Duke of Coal, Propanus. He was a jolly sort of fellow, long and lanky, his physical features only paling in comparison of oddness with other Fire Elementals in light of his fondness for being cheerful and his utter love of bubble pipes (of which Sparks had made him many). Despite dubious amounts of actual evidence to suggest so, it did appear to nearly everyone within the kingdom that he had received some of Volciferoco's genes.

It was entirely possible; female Flame Elementals were notoriously promiscuous, living life to the fullest before their demise and relatively un-phased by the prospect of child bearing, the one element of being of the brighter sex in Fire Society that was relatively favorable; child-birth was near instantaneous and as long as you didn't live anywhere near water (which was quite the rarity in the Fire Kingdom) you could let the little scamps loose without a real care.

"Sparks, my boy! Any luck with that bow you've been crafting me? I've read another brilliant story featuring it since Robin Hood, where some chap named William Tell of all things started shooting apples off of people's head," The Duke said with gusto, gliding into the room without invitation and drawing a warm smile out of Spark's usually squinting or frowning face. "Haven't the faintest cinder what a burning apple is, but I figure I'll be the first person since my old pops to figure out where the library is in this mess of dug out Obsidian and look it up in one of those… what was it, a dictionary?"

"Indeed; library's on Floor 47, actually, I just got this book from it yesterday," Sparks replied, remembering the encounter clearly. He had stumbled upon the grand, beautifully designed (it was a shame it was so underused) room completely by accident, and after an awkward five minutes of trying to obtain the librarian's attention (and subsequently realizing the old, sooty man had actually gone out awhile ago and hadn't been removed yet since no one went to the library, let alone knew where it was), had showed himself around.

Too late did he realize his error in then pointing out his spellbook, and immediately froze (something Flame Elementals rarely, rarely did), awaiting the Duke's reaction.

"Ahh! Yes, I dabbled when I was still getting my Sulfur about me," the Duke replied giddily, immediately looking over the cover. "But then I blew up my favorite pair of Flamemitton clubs and realized I was much better at causing excess amounts of inflammation the good ole fashion way. Have you tried enchanting anything?"

Sparks blew out a sigh of relief as he smiled; good old Duke of Coal. "You had me cooling down for a bit there, thought you were going to lecture me on yet another hobby that isn't favored by my father, Duke," He replied, and the Duke smiled widely as he patted the Prince on the back.

"Of course not! It's good to have hobbies, especially when they're practical ones! And how many times do I have to tell you, call me Coal!" The older Elemental chided jokingly, his eyes beginning to search Spark's rack for his desired bow.

"I know, I know," Sparks said with a laugh, reaching out and picking the Emerald bow (its string comprised of a enchanted material Sparks believed to be called plastic) off the rack, along with its quiver that was filled to a good extent with arrows, all besides a few bits also made of Emerald. "I actually did do the enchantments myself; no need to worry about it melting."

"Thatta boy!" Coal replied with wonder, his fingers stroking the frame of the weapon. "And a perfect green so I don't lose it or the arrows! Buy something colored orange, yellow, or red in this kingdom and you lose it in a week." Sparks laughed again, pleased that the Duke was so appreciative of his work.

"Right now I'm working on a red dress; hopefully I don't lose it before I can send it to Ember," Sparks said, moving to show Coal the beginnings of his project. And while the older man's eyes at first blazed with admiration at the dress, his expression shifted quickly to distress, even sorrow.

"Oh my, you don't know… your father didn't… oh my…" The Duke whispered to himself as his eyes scanned the dress as if it were a memento, rather than a gift. Sparks immediately felt his flames flicker in fear; Coal was rarely afflicted by any negative emotion. Ember couldn't have… already gone out… yes, she was volatile, even for a female, but…

After a few more seconds of tense silence, the Duke spoke, somberly and with much care. "I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you, Sparks, but you should know. Your sister Ember escaped recently; your father was led to believing she would be marrying a great hero, when in reality she ran off to date a young, er, what was it, human, whatever that is. I'm sorry, but… at least she's free. It hurt my heart, seeing her trapped as such."

Sparks' own happiness at the thought of Ember running freely through the world and ornamenting it within her bright and beautiful flames was immediately dampened by the fact that besides Coal, who was often engaged in political matters of his own estate, the only person he cared for in the kingdom was gone.

"…Perhaps her model might be one you would appreciate following," Coal said cryptically as Sparks searched for words, mischief creeping into his voice. The Prince's eyes immediately widened at such a thought… could he really do such a thing? "At least think it over, Sparks. I'm sorry you had to find out a full seven months after," Coal finished, patting him on the back before turning and leaving Sparks alone.

As the Prince's mind raced with dreams of freedom and daring escape as he coped with the truth of the Duke's words, Coal ran into a rather interesting creature in the hallway. His eyes perked up as he viewed a thin, gray form, messy and thick hair blacker than even his namesake, pointed ears and garbed in what looked like actual… what was the word, fabric?

She (he could tell at least that much) waved as she floated by, and for a slight moment another term popped into his head, one he vaguely remembered his father mentioning after a game of molten horseshoes. Vampire, he believed it was. As she passed, he shrugged, and the creature left his mind.

He couldn't have known that the girl, relishing the feeling of heat for a change in her un-life, and enjoying a rare use for her cute red bikini top and dangerously short jean-skirt (all fireproof, duh), was about to knock upon Sparks' door, having been recommended to visit him for some metalwork from a very pink friend of hers.

Similarly, Sparks hadn't the slightest idea what was waiting for him on the other side when he answered it, assuming that Coal had left some grass-toffees in his workshop or had wanted to rekindle their conversation.

Upon viewing the very scantily clad body of Marceline the Vampire Queen, the Crown Prince of the Fire Kingdom, having not seen a member of the opposite sex in a good three years, and having certainly never seen a girl who looked this unique and wondrous, felt his body leap up a few degrees, and was dimly aware he was simmering. Steaming, maybe. He wouldn't mind erupting all over that, not at all.

As a person who prided himself of grace and tact while surrounded by those dominated by their emotions, Sparks immediately admonished himself for such lustful and flammable thoughts.

Marceline, eager to request her Sapphire, seven string guitar (the strings being Dragon skin and the neck Ash Wood), and who was unused to reading arousal within Flame Elementals, asked charmingly, "Hey, I heard you were hot stuff (Sparks's heard up until there and then began looping the phrase "hot stuff" in his mind several times before realizing he needed to catch back up to her speaking) with metalwork, and I have a pretty elaborate request."

"I'm of the opinion that out of the two of us, you are the hotter, which is quite a feat because I can reach temperatures that verge on that of plasma," Sparks deadpanned, and though he could tell from the temperature in the air that this girl was decidedly very cold, the small warmth that concentrated in her cheeks a moment later combined with her obvious pleasure at his words sent scalding shivers down his eternally combusting spine. "And whatever you want, I'll do it for free."

A proper metaphor for the nature of this moment would, much to the likely disagreement of a Fire Philosopher, be comparing it to lighting striking a tree. If you could work out the logistics of a Vampire representing lightning in said scenario, and a Flame Elemental likewise being the tree, let alone the impossibility of love blooming between a undead half-demon and a being mostly comprised of fire.

Logic could kiss Sparks' blistering, love-cooked ash.

* * *

_I was about halfway through this before I realized I was writing a fic with an original character as the protagonist, and somehow, while that would normally scare the heck out of me, was fine with it._

_ I loved writing this. Between the chances of exploring the Fire Kingdom more explicitly, to some of the description of precious metals and fire, to Marceline's surprise appearance, and finally to, HOLY MOLEY SWEET BALLS OF FIRE (pun intended) the fire puns. Sweet baby Jesus. _

_I hope Sparks comes across as a cool character. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Flickers

**Chapter 2: Flickers**

Marceline was so affronted with surprise by the Flame Elemental's blatant advances that she nearly fell right into his hands. Nearly. But if she had learned anything from her long list of deadbeat exes, it's that overconfidence was a warning sign. A good guy needed some cojones, but also some tact.

Yet even after she had recovered, and had begun preparations to make this kid realize who he was lumpin' dealing with, she found herself keeping taking him up on his offer one of her options. A long shot, but still.

"Whoooo! Woof! Someone's DTF!" Marceline retorted smoothly, drifting inches away from him, well close enough to feel his exquisite heat, and trying to rouse him into a flinch. Instead, their eyes met as her face froze in front of his, and as a spark fired in each of his eyes, Marceline watched in awe as this burst of light was reflected back and forth between his and her own pupils infinitely in the span of a millisecond.

Her jaw fell agape as she floated back, her heart almost feeling the urge to kick again and her head mulling over the logistics of a Vampire and Flame Elemental working out. Luckily for her, while his eyes had dumbfounded the Vampire, her comment had nearly immobilized him, Sparks's lips trembling in horror of what he thought that acronym meant.

"…Wha?" He forced out eventually, and Marceline nearly fell out of the air in shock, having lost herself to the degree that she had forgotten he was even in the room.

"…Ya know, down to f—" Marceline grinned and went in for the kill, her focus renewed, but at the last minute Sparks interrupted and filled in the rest of the phrase with a shout.

"—lambroil!" Marceline's open grin clamped down in a sickly smile as the Prince smiled nervously himself.

"Not on the first date, heavens no," He blabbered, unaware he was backing closer to his forge. He couldn't believe he had possessed the hearthstones to get himself in this mess in the first place. What was the most frightening and insane was that it seemed she was… enjoying it? Glob.

"Who said anything about a date?" The Vampire questioned, her vicious smile making it clear she was just trying to mess with him. Before he could piece together a response, she continued. "Alright, but no tongue."

At first Sparks was so flustered he thought she was trying to explain to him that she believed he had no tongue. Shortly after he realized that wasn't the case, he understood what she meant when she made the existence of her own tongue very clear, it slingshotting out of her mouth and slicing through the air in elegant curves.

"…You said you want a guitar, yeah?" The Prince said flatly; he had never been willing to waste his time at things he had no skill in, and he was done flaming out like a fire landing on wet leaves.

"Don't give up, Sparky," Marceline replied, soaring forward and placing her hand on his shoulder. It was just cool enough for him to notice, but feel entirely pleasant. She smiled as he slowly felt himself spread onto her body, not knowing whether to keep the contact going or not, and after a minute she held up her hand; it was barely charred, and to his disbelief she then licked it greedily. Apparently she was alright with playing with fire.

"The name's Sparks, yes," He replied, trying to get back to some semblance of comfort. She simply smiled evilly, and he had the feeling she hadn't known that at all.

"So… I would like a Sapphire guitar, seven strings with dragon skin as the material, and the bridge Ash Wood," Marceline listed, digging in her jeanskirt for detailed (and Flame-Shielded) notes and in doing so pushing it down just enough for the Prince to view the lining of red panties.

"Nice shade of red," He said dryly, and while the glare she gave him at first indicated she thought he was checking out her bikini it quickly morphed into a blush as it struck Marceline he had seen her underwear.

"You're not a bad orange yourself!" Marceline responded, the blush on her face making her quip falter. "When do you think you can fix it together? A week?"

A week? He had to either find someone selling Dragon skin, or SLAY one, put together a Sapphire bass for a guitar (no easy task, even for him), and WOOD? Even if it was Ash Wood, the only type of wood you could find in the Fire Kingdom, Mars knew how he would acquire some. Not to mention he'd have to learn how to wire an electric guitar.

In pure flabbergast he mixed up shakings one's head with nodding, and as such Marceline smiled and gave a thumbs up. "Sweet! I'll swing by in a week then, and I'll see what I can get you for a reward. Maybe that date… see you soon spicy!" The Vampire flew out the door before he could utter anything else, and in shock he collapsed to his knees.

Who had he just met? What had he just agreed to? What was her name? What WAS she? HOT, that's what she was, and Sparks felt himself singeing even the Obsidian titles he kneeled on, so heated was his system.

Those questions continued on repeat as he began to examine various weaponry, wondering which would be best to use against a Dragon. Eventually he realized what he was doing, and with a shake of his head, he set the mace he had been holding down. Sparks wasn't getting anywhere without someone who knew how to hunt dragons, and a set of armor. At least he knew where to get the prior.

* * *

Sparks got some weird looks as he steadily made his way to the surface levels of his Kingdom. Whether or not this was because the Prince who had been invisible for nearly five years was suddenly out and about, or because he was kind of stark naked (which wasn't a big deal in the kingdom, but still non-preferable, as he was still hot and bothered from his encounter with the beautiful gray girl and not used to Flame Girl's giggling at him), or because he simply looked lost, he did not know.

What he did know was that he was deathly afraid that when he tried to get back to his forge, he wouldn't be able to. Knowledge of the castle's upper floors was a gaping hole in his memory, and it took him several hours before he emerged, utterly livid at his own stupidity of getting so lost in his own home, from the castle's gates.

He took another moment to deftly acknowledge that he had left his forge for the first time in months just for the sake of this gray girl. And he would love to tell himself that he was being crazy, but then her smile and witty voice came into his mind and he felt his entire body glowing brighter.

Shaking his head, he realized he needed to get moving. Thankfully, up on the surface there was some signage, and he soon found a map that led him directly to Coal's domain and residence. Sparks remembered spending many fond years there with Ember when they had been children; fishing for Fire Bass in the lava streams, prancing in the magma fields. Better times.

Upon reaching Coal's estate, a servant rushed him some tasty charcoal licorice, and he let it simmer quietly as he waited. He understood the Duke might be busy, but within five minutes Coal was in the lobby of his home, a smile on his face.

"Sparks! What a miracle! I have convinced you to somehow grace the upper world once more!" Coal had his usual bluster as he teased his companion, and Sparks smiled as usual at the man's antics.

"I um, actually need your help…" The Prince began awkwardly, Coal allowing him time to compose himself. "I, er, need help slaying a Dragon."

"I am incredibly gracious you chose to ask me to help you defeat a terrifying, dangerous beast!" The Duke replied jokingly, shaking his head. "But I'll see what I can do. Why the sudden interest in Dragon slaying? You should tell your father, he'll be very happy."

"Sure he'd be thrilled," Sparks spat, shaking his head, trying to ignore Coal's frown at his disdain for his father. "And… I need Dragon skin for the strings of a guitar."

"Oh, no, no no no no NOOO!" The Duke said firmly, patting Sparks on the back. The Prince hung his head low until Coal continued. "You want the heartstrings of the Dragon for guitar strings! Trust me on this one! And since when did you turn into a rocker?"

"Heartstrings, huh… oh, it's not for me," Sparks replied quickly, waving his hands in front of him. "It's for this gray girl."

"Oooh! The Vampire!?" Coal said, his eyes lighting up, and Sparks gulped. Vampire? The Duke nodded, and asked, "In the… blast it… bikini?"

Sparks nodded slowly; he doubted the Duke had run into any other gray girls wearing bikinis recently.

"Hot stuff! Making her a guitar to impress her? Sweet! And she plays? Sounds like a real score!" Coal ran his mouth off with proclamations of the beauty of young love and courting while Sparks found himself getting very heated and uncomfortable.

Was he really doing this just to have a chance with this girl? He didn't even know her name… but she had brought such intrigue into his life after only a five minute meeting. For Glob's sake, he could use something interesting in his life; he was 19 and more or less married to his forge. And it was his job to uphold his word, and to complete the contract assigned to him. The Prince realized he could not let the Vampire down, and felt comforted, almost as if he was glad the logic was working out in his favor.

"So… you'll help?" Sparks asked quietly, and Coal broke out of his rant to smile and nod. "Hot… I need, um, Dragon hunting advice. Like, weapons to use. And then I need to find some armor…"

"I can help you on both counts," The Duke said with a smile, calling his servant back into the room. "Gasser? Please fetch the old set of silver. The armor." Gasser, whom Sparks knew had a very close relationship with Coal, gave his master a surprised and meaningful look before bowing low and blazing off to retrieve said armor.

"Oh, no, Duke, you don't have to…" Sparks began, but the Duke quickly snuffed his complaints out.

"Don't worry, it's a spare; I'm wearing mine right now after all," Coal replied, and indeed his Vermillion armor was upon his body. While Sparks in general thought moving around in armor as if you were raring to fight any moment was stupid, he appreciate the Duke's at least. "It was my son's, and I've been meaning to ask you about you wearing it for ages, but I figured you didn't have any interest."

Sparks blushed as Coal mentioned his son; the boy had been born with a defect that made him burn exceptionately hot. He had lasted for only a week of life, transforming from a baby pilot light into an old withered piece of barely glowing ash before poofing out. It had been very hard on the Duke, and Sparks had long recognized that Coal saw him as a surrogate son in some ways. The Prince appreciated the sentiment; Coal was much more of a father to him than his own ever had been.

As such, Sparks did not protest as Gasser placed an elaborate and sleek set of armor in front of him, realizing it how much it must mean for the Duke to offer it at all. The armor was indeed silver, and from its constant, dazzling sheen it was clear it was heavily enchanted. There were seven main parts; a thin chest piece made up of outwardly spiraling silver, a sleek circlet that was split into two halves, a gothic belt, elbow guards with razor sharp fins, gauntlets comprised of floating silver pieces held together by magic, then knee-cap guards that connected at several loose hinges, and finally curved war boots.

Needless to say, it was a dazzling suit, though Sparks could already see what changes he would make when he returned to his forge.

"I put my heart and soul into the design," Coal began, immediately making the Prince feel guilty for even considering altering it in any way. "But I understand you'll want to add some bells and whistles." Sparks immediately turned in surprise to find the Duke smiling warmly, a faint flicker of nostalgia in his flames. "I dreamed of Infernox wearing this and wooing his crush," The father whispered, the armor seeming to grow brighter with ever word. "May it suit you well. Go, and craft it, and then we'll speak of Dragons."

Sparks replied with a steadfast nod, and rather than carry the armor back, he simply donned it. He would have to make several modifications, but as he began to feel it out, he couldn't deny it felt slightly natural, being one with these streaks of Silver.

He spent several more hours figuring out how the blast to get back to his personal chamber, and then spent the rest of the night pounding away upon his forge. It was hard and meaningful work, every strike of his hammer calculated and done only after heavy thought. Sparks was determined to do Coal right for his kindness.

* * *

The next morning, Sparks made his way up through the castle, the armor upon him, finding relief when he realized he was finally getting the hang of navigating it. As he neared the gate, however, he froze; there, facing away from him, stood his father.

The Crown Prince of the Fire Kingdom always forgot how tall and massive the Crown King was. The air crackled with special gusto around his father, as if his will simply burned harsher than those of all around him.

Sparks had half a mind to turn and run the other direction (surely there had to be some other exit from the castle), but before he could, his father turned around.

They both awkwardly started at the other, his father gasping before falling into an uneasy smile. Sparks simply left his mouth agape; he hadn't seen his father in months, and had no clue what had changed since then that would lead to him SMILING of all things.

"Hello, son, how goes it?" The King began, clearing his throat and then immediately continuing before Sparks could start up a response. "The Duke of Coal let me know that you were going Dragon hunting with him today, and I wanted to show some positive reinforcement; it's great to see you interested in sport." Somehow, he kept a comment about it being a much better use of his time than forging out of the sentence.

"Oh," Sparks whispered, his face still shocked but pleasantly so. Had he just been complimented?

"If you ever have the urge to go out on the Lava Lakes and hunt Fire Serpents, let me know, I'll send down my harpoons and you can kindle them up," His father said, looking more uncomfortable every second. He seemed to believe his attempt at parental bonding wasn't catching a light.

"Yeah, definitely. Thanks, dad," Sparks replied, trying to be as cheerful as possible as he smiled. His father flashed another awkward one, but seemed relieved he hadn't blown it.

"Hot. See you later, then," The King said with a wave, before stopping, and looking Sparks up and down. "Good armor, too. It's a shame Infernox never got to wear it, but I'm sure he would be glad to see it being used. The modifications are nice as well. Anyway, good luck."

Sparks said nothing as his father passed by him, still too shocked to register much. By the time he got his wits about him he dimly realized he was probably late, and sprinted in his quicker form to the Duke's estate, determined to think over his father's kindness later.

When he arrived, Coal made no mention of him being tardy, simply asking, "Did you see your father?" Sparks hesitated before nodding slowly, and Cole smiled, but said nothing more of it. "You bring a weapon as well? I like your modifications to the armor. Very spiffy."

Sparks blushed as he looked himself over; he had interpreted the design as aiming for a very subdued and nearly skeletal aesthetic, and as such had narrowed much of the armor and had taken off some of the excess weight. He looked very light and dexterous, but still weighty. For a sword, he had brought an Obsidian blade Smog had enchanted back when he had been a bit more lit up in the old coal-noggin.

"Where do we find Dragons?" Sparks asked pointedly, and Coal smiled widely.

"The Dragon I have in mind is very, very deep within our own realm," The Duke stated with gravity, and suddenly Sparks' daydreams of the Vampire and her fanged smile disappeared in a wisp of smoke as the hard truth that he was about to face a mystical beast laid into him. A particularly dangerous one too, if Coal's tone held accurate in its foreshadowing.

Without much more ado, they boarded Coal's Ruby ship, and began sailing, the Duke using his flames to propel them forward. Sparks mainly thought over how the flare he was going to fight a dragon, while the Duke gave him tips and tricks here and there, guiding them through the currents easily and skillfully. So skillfully it was only when they were within 50 ft of the swirling lava vortex that Sparks noticed its existence and began freaking the flame out.

"Welcome to the word's hottest toilet!" Was the only response he got out of Coal as he shrieked and clamored, the older Flame Elemental licking his white hot lips in anticipation. You didn't make the trip down a lava vortex very often for obvious reasons, but the few times you did were always unforgettable experiences.

Sparks did his best to hold in a rumbling stomach full of firewood, trying to ignore the feelings of whipping around in a circle and then going into virtual freefall for a moment, only opening his eyes once they seemed to have reached what he considered relative stillness. He openly gasped as he realized they had literally fallen through to another level of the kingdom; here the caverns were darker, the smog nearly opaque in places, the lava glittering and humming with a dimmer red compared to the pastel yellow and orange Sparks was used to. Coal continued steering with ease, and after another hour, they came across a large crater.

The Duke hurriedly docked them, and Sparks, a strange feeling filling his glowing body, went to explore the crater as his companion secured the boat. As he moved towards it, though, he realized he had grossly underestimated its size; it wasn't tremendously deep, but sweet Tabasco, it was wide.

He squinted as an abnormality that seemed to be perfectly centered within the crater caught his eye. It appeared to be some kind of white mass, and while his depth perception was still spotty, he had a feeling it was quite large. A small fluttering sound rang out, and immediately after Sparks glimpsed at two orbs of the most perfect, serene blue he had ever witnessed staring at him.

Between the subsequent roar, massive windstorm no doubt caused by a snap of its wings, and the sudden prevalence of blue flames all around him, Sparks was not sure when he realize he had just made the horrible mistake of making eye contact with a Dragon.

Widely aware he had no idea what in the furnace he was doing, all of Coal's instruction having left him and being replaced by terror, the Prince ran forward, calling his element forth in front of him as a shield. While one would assume a battle between a Fire Elemental and a Dragon would be more physically based, fire indeed played a large role, as the old adage went; fight fire with fire.

Sparks was well aware the scaled leviathan in front of him would rather not feel a Flame Elemental's wrath, and he was even more aware that a direct blast from the great white beast would leave him feeling quite small.

As such, he did his best to dodge the Dragon's wave of hissing streaks as it circled him in the low cavern, and only blocked when he couldn't help it. At times he became caught in the spectacle of the Dragon's effortless flight mixed with the whine and shine of its blue jets of fire.

Gliding around with his armor on was as easy as winning a smoking contest by cheating and using dried ferns, and as such he quickly found blocking was barely a necessity at all. He soon made use of this tactical info by sending forth some fire of his own.

Perhaps Sparks hadn't given the forge enough credit; he had always assumed being so glued to it would lead to his skills commanding his own element diminishing, but now he felt it burn through him as if it were electricity, dancing at his fingertips and almost limitless.

As naturally as one would walk or breathe, he extended his hand and set forth a livid inferno that the Dragon could only duck to hope to avoid, it screaming in surprise at his attack. The flames reamed a hole inside the flying beast's wing and also burned into its legs, its beautiful white skin marred with black stains.

Sparks felt no pity, well aware it was either him or it, and as it careened out of the sky, hopelessly attempting to catch air with one wing, the Prince rocketed into the sky by shooting fire from his feet. He shouted like a heroic warrior and slashed at the Dragon's neck, and felt very good about himself until he realized his blade hadn't quite cut all the way through.

While it had hit the spine and major blood vessels, doing more than enough to kill the dragon, it was firmly stuck within the creature's neck, and Sparks did not feel very heroic as the air pounded into him before he slammed into the dirt along with the Dragon's body.

It took the Prince a good minute to get his bearings and get back on his feet, and by that time the Dragon had stopped moving, and Coal was speeding towards him, laughing and causing a general ruckus.

"That was flame-tastic Sparks! Whoooeee! I haven't seen someone take down a Dragon in years!" The Duke gushed, and Sparks could only shake his head with a smirk. "Er… sorry about that though. Should have mentioned not to make eye contact unless you were ready to fight. But heck, you didn't need any of my info! You just ran in and burned right through him!"

"Yeah, it was a piece of cake," The Prince muttered with a sly smile, ripping his sword out as he glanced at the Dragon's chest. Somehow, he felt slightly sad; it had been such a beautiful creature, if deadly.

"Actually, I'll take care of this part, Sparks," Coal murmured, moving in front of the Prince and walking over to the Dragon's fallen form. "You have to know where to cut. This is a rare dragon as well, you must know. I tried to bring him down years ago, but never could. Your father couldn't either."

As the sound of sword cutting through rigid scales filled his ears, Sparks could not contain his surprise. "My dad tried to fight this thing? And couldn't?" He asked in stupor.

"Oh, yeah. It's a rite of passage in the royal bloodline. This Dragon hasn't been defeated since… well, it's been quite a while," Coal continued as he peeled off the now fully cut skin, and began hacking at the veins connecting the heart. It shone brightly, and was colored a beautiful white, just like the dragon, and filled with (now draining) purple blood.

"You mean it comes back?" Sparks asked in wonder, and walked over to the heart, and rather than feel the repulsion he had imagine he would, he was in awe of it. By now Coal had pulled it out completely, and was delicately cutting out heartstrings.

"Oh, yeah. It reverts to its younger form when slain," The Duke explained. "And then its better takes it in and raises it to adulthood. Upon being raised, the Dragon and its owner form a powerful bond, so profound that upon the day of its master's death, it flees from society, brought to madness in its grief until one sates its desire for a new life by slaying it. It is said that every time a Dragon dies, a part of its soul breaks off and journeys to the soul of the master who raised it last."

"…I'm supposed to raise a Dragon," Sparks whispered in complete disbelief, and Coal rubbed the back of his head with guilt.

"You see, no offense Sparks, but I really didn't expect you to BEAT the thing, at least not on the first try," Coal replied. "I mean, heck, I hadn't even taught you real strategy yet. But I'm sure you'll enjoy the process."

At these words, and as he pulled out his final heartstring, the Dragon's heart burst into blue flame, as did its body. The heart burned into nothing, while the body slowly shrunk until a small spec of white solely adjourned the imprint of the Dragon's landing.

A small, high pitched squeak and cry came from the spec, and with wonder Sparks lifted a baby Dragon off the ground; it was just as white, but fragile, and very smooth. The Prince's black eyes met the blues of the Dragon, and he suddenly felt a bond millennia older than himself. And then the Dragon giggled and started pissing lava from its genitals (at this point Sparks realized it was a she), her newfound owner shouting out a few choice swear words before ducking and then holding the baby away from him.

"…Sweet Vesuvius, what have I gotten myself into," Sparks whispered, but suddenly a thought leapt into his head. "Hey, Coal?" The Flame Elemental said, turning to face the Duke. "Do you think a Vampire would think a baby Dragon is cute?" As far as he concerned, they both liked biting things. At least that was a place to start.

Sparks immediately swore again as the Dragon pooped out a boulder of molten magma onto (more like through) his foot.

Coal laughed heartily, his face beaming in both pride and amusement, before replying, "Perhaps once she's housebroken, yes."

* * *

_AND NOW THERE'S A DRAGON INVOLVED. I promise the Dragon is neither a cute animal injected for the sake of it being a cute animal (anything that immediately tries to eat you is not completely cute), and also isn't going to end up being a huge thing in the plot. But there's something about fighting a Dragon to win a girl that I love._

_Oh, and speaking of Marceline, I had a ton of fun writing that scene. I liked having her play it so coy, and also enjoyed dropping hints at just how lovestruck Sparks is through the chapter. _

_Glad I busted this out, though I'll be frank and say I'm slightly disappointed by the lack of reviews. I'm someone who generally isn't super fond of OCs, so I can understand if that's an issue, and perhaps I should add Marceline into the character list (I originally wanted her first appearance to be a bit of a surprise). _

_Speaking of OCs, I like Sparks so far, but if he seems at all uneven he should smooth out in the next two or three chapters as I get used to him. I'm kind of going for a very well rounded person who shortchanges themselves and often unintentionally gets into odd situations by accident._

_Thank you for reading!_


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